[???]
If one lived in a world steeped in magic—where magical beasts roamed freely and kingdoms mixed sorcery with sciences so advanced they eclipsed reason itself—could anything truly still inspire surprise?
Ordinarily, Grimm would have answered no.
He had marched through foreign lands whose names were unpronounceable to his own people. He had stood before rulers whose customs defied sense, whose techniques bent the rules of power in ways that would have unsettled lesser men. He had crossed blades with aberrations that should not have existed at all. As a General, he had not merely witnessed history—he had forced it forward. Nations had fallen because he willed them to. Victory had followed him like a shadow.
There was little left in the world that could shock him. Even less that could unsettle him.
And despite that—
"Hm."
The sound was almost lost within his helm. Grimm stood motionless, planted firmly where he was.
Calling this place a space felt dishonest.
